Smolder
by Clearly Epic
Summary: Harley, Harley, Harley, you just don't know when to qui-t, do ya? You, uh, you're just like Alice, tum-bling down the rabbit hole. But, see, the thing is, Doc...Arkham's no wonderland." An old story with a new twist. Joker/Harley


**Smolder**

**Prologue**

Pale flesh. Limp hair. Dark eyes.

In the dim light of the corridor, she was like a phantom, a translucent figure that drifted in and out of the oppressive white-washed walls, a whisper that passed itself from ear to ear, door to door, quietly working its way through the eyes of every inmate she passed. Transfixed, they watched.

A month ago they would have whooped and hollered, yelled obscene things or just plain screamed. The real crazies never stopped. But now the cellblock was silent except for the soft padding of her bare feet against the linoleum floor and the _drip, drip, drip_ of her blood as it dotted a path behind her. The inmates, they may have been insane, but they weren't stupid. They knew how to fear. They knew what to fear. And this was one of those things.

She gripped the edges of her hospital gown, as if steadying herself against the flimsy cloth. Her fingers left red smears in the places that weren't already soaked through. Beneath the gown, her whole body shook, her skin pricked with goose bumps and every last tiny hair standing on end.

Finally, she reached the cell she'd been looking for, a single small white room separated from her by a thick panel of plexiglass. Beyond that, a man sat on a bare mattress, the tiniest of smirks on his heavily scarred face. He watched in amusement as her blood traced rivulets down his window.

"Gee, Doc," he said in that low mocking tone, that voice that sent shivers running up her spine every. Single. Time. "What happened to _you_?"

"They keep telling me I'm crazy," she moaned in agony. "I escaped. They locked me up and I escaped. I got a bit… But… They keep…they keep telling me I'm sick in the head. But I know I'm not. I'm _not_."

"Of course not," he cooed. "You're just as sane as, uh, _I_ am."

She let out a sigh of relief, a haggard breath that left the plexiglass misted over in front of her face.

"Thank God," she smiled. "I knew I wasn't. I knew you'd understand. You always…you always do…"

He watched her slump to the floor in front of him and felt a pang of irritation. If she died on him now, it would ruin so much.

"Listen, Harley, as much as I enjoy the sight of your blood," he said, standing up to approach her crumpled figure, "it'd be a waste to spend it all in one place, if you catch my drift. So, uh, why don't you open up my cell and I can patch you up good as new!"

She looked up at him blearily, confused, as if the idea had never occurred to her before.

"Open up your cell? I can't…I can't do that."

"Sure you can, Harley," he coaxed. "All you gotta do is punch in one lit-_tle_ code into that keypad over there and then Mr. J can make _all_ the pain go away!"

Suddenly, a door banged open at the opposite end of the corridor and a jumble of footsteps came pounding in their direction. There were cries as members of the search party spotted her in the shadows and their pace increased.

He licked his lips nervously.

"Come on, Harls," he urged, a growl rising out of the depths of his throat

She looked at him in the eyes, searching for something they both knew she wouldn't find. Her cracked lips, stained red by her own blood, parted desperately and her arm shifted upward, toward the keypad and his freedom. In midair, she hesitated.

"Tell me to do it," she said.

The search party was almost on them, just a few yards away, and they were coming closer with every passing moment. She was watching him now with unwavering eyes, waiting for his command, desperately examining the contours of his grimy face. All she needed was to be told, and there would be no going back.

"Do it."

She punched in the code.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm hesitant about uploading this right now because I'm still trying to figure out where exactly this story is going. But I suppose that's alright. After a year or so of trying to write a TDK fic that was interesting and had content that I could write reasonably well, I decided to try my hand at a longer Harley/Joker story. The feedback I recieved on To Be Devoured influenced me on this, I guess, and also because I wanted to try looking at the story from an angle that hadn't been done before. Hopefully this will turn out as original as I intend it to be. Please review!

-Clearly Epic

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Batman, The Dark Knight, or any related material. Don't sue me. I don't have any money to give you.


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